


Round and Round We Go

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mystery Spot, Sam's POV, just a short thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: After hundreds of Tuesdays, Sam can't take it anymore. He has to say what's in his heart, he has to, before he runs out of Tuesdays.Before he runs out of opportunities to tell Dean he loves him, without having to carry the consequences of his confession for the rest of his life.





	

 

It kept happening again and again. Over and over. It was like he was stuck in a nightmare, a never-ending torture, forced the relive the one worst possible thing that could happen. Forced watch, or listen, or neither – sometimes just waking up was enough to know it had happened, sometimes those times being the worse, as it meant his brother had to die alone. He knew better than to let them get to him, but each time it happened, the pain was too real...

Unlike Dean.

Sam wasn't an idiot. He was a trained hunter and had years of experience in the bag. He realized, after the tenth time, that it wasn't a time loop. This wasn't the real Dean, it couldn't have been all him. Must have been a trick, maybe a dream, something that had the suspicious stink of witches or alike on it. He had run experiments, just to be sure, but in the end what he found was, no matter what he did or what he altered, everything would reset the moment it happened. The moment Dean died... He tried trashing the motel, telling Dean to remember, and once, out of desperation, he even shot one of the customers in the diner – which of course ended with Dean slipping on the broken bottle of hot sauce when he tried to escape with Sam, and hitting the side of his head against the edge of the table, dying. Again.

_"Heat of the moment, telling you what your heart is..."_

Sam closed his eyes, not feeling like getting out of bed. Why should he, anyway? What good would that do? It certainly wouldn't change the inevitable.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

He couldn't help it, though. He opened his eyes with a tired sigh, pretty sure he looked dead inside as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sat up in the bed. Looking at his brother tying his shoe, he wondered what day it was... Which Tuesday.

"Dude," Dean said, nodding at the alarm clock-radio with a smirk, "Asia."

That's right. Day two hundred and sixty four. Sam was keeping a mental note, as when he once tried writing the days down, the papers just kept disappear each morning, so he gave up.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

Sometimes, Sam fantasized about doing things. Things he didn't usually do. These days, they reset anyway, so whatever he did would be erased forever. Of course there was always the risk of that specific day being the last one, and then he'd have to live with the consequences of his action, but after more than a hundred Tuesdays in a row, he was fairly certain that was an irrational fear.

"I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

Sometimes those thoughts occupy all of Sam's mind, morals fighting with a growing need for release. An emotional release, one he's needed for many years now, and what better time to share these feelings than when he knew whatever response he'd get, it wouldn't matter? Wouldn't change anything? Because none of this was really happening.

_"Heat of the moment, telling you what your heart is..."_

He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice Dean leaving for the bathroom. He never came back, and now Sam was back in bed, so he probably tripped again... Or drowned in the toilet.

Day 265.

Dean swallowed the toothpick he used after breakfast and died.

Day 266.

Dean accidentally tied his finger to his shoe and fell head-first on the floor, cracking his skull open, dying.

Day 267. Dean almost got hit by a car, but just after Sam yanked him back, a bus driven by a drunk guy veered too fast to the right, crashing into the building in front of which Dean stood, flattening him against the wall and killing him.

Day 271...

_"Heat of the moment, telling you what your heart is..."_

This was madness. If he was going to be stuck here forever, he might as well do it, screw the consequences.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

He was afraid of his brother's reaction, of course, but... It wouldn't last for long. No longer than a day, that's for damn sure.

"Dean..." he whispered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and staring absently at the other's shoes on the bed, his stomach twisting in nervousness.

"Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it."

He sighed. "That's not it," he said, clutching the bed sheet in his hands. "We need to talk. Please."

Dean paused, giving him a skeptical and somewhat confused, hesitant look, before sitting up straight and facing Sam. "Okay... What's up?"

He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "What I'm...going to say now will probably make no sense to you. Or probably the first half won't, the second half might just simply freak you out," he said with a little laugh, sure Dean could hear how nervous he was from his voice.

"Sam." His brother read the mood, getting more serious as he furrowed his brow at him. "What is it?"

He lowered his gaze, clenching his jaw and refusing to chicken out now. It was too late. It was now or never. This was his only chance, like this, and he couldn't blow it... He just hoped Dean wouldn't die in the middle of it.

"Dean," he began, sliding his hands down his legs and gripping his knees as he sat up straight, looking his big brother in the eyes. "We, or at least I am, stuck in a time loop sort of thing. This is already the two hundred and seventy first day that we've been here. Two hundred and seventy one Tuesdays, and each time the days resets when you...die."

"What? You're making no sense, Sam. Are you still dreaming?" Dean chuckled, but then sobered when he saw the obvious sorrow in the other's eyes.

"Oh how I wish I was..." He licked his lips, swallowing back tears he was _not_ going to let show. Not now. "Every day. Every Tuesday, I see you die. So many deaths, Dean, you can't even begin to understand what I had to watch, what I'm going through. The pain." He shook his head with a rueful little laugh. "I thought it would get better. Hurt less. I couldn't have been more wrong."

"Wait," Dean interjected, sliding forward on the side of the bed, gaze intense yet still somewhat dubious. "So you say you're stuck in a time loop...? Like in Groundhog's day?"

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in his chest, but he pushed it down. "Yeah..... _like Groundhog's day._ Except far worse," he whispered, suddenly feeling weak and tired. Lonely. Desperate... "Dean, I can't stand this. I can't keep losing you, keep waking up each time knowing you'll die."

"Well then just make sure I won't—"

"You think I haven't tried that?!" He exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You think I haven't tried _literally everything_ to save you? Because I did. I even killed for you, Dean; I kept you inside, I ordered takeout, I kept holding your hand _I did everything!"_ This wasn't good, he was breaking down. "I tried, I tried so damn h-hard, but each time you die... Do you have any idea how many times you died in my arms, Dean? Forty three. I counted. And those were the worst Tuesdays, when you were looking at me, bleeding, then just stopped seeing, your eyes open but..." Sam sniffled, running an agitated hand through his hair as he sat back on the bed, blinking tears away and breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

"Sam..."

"But that's not," he said, clearing his throat and looking into Dean's eyes even as his heart broke, "that's not the main reason for this conversation. I have something else to tell you. Something that...I have been carrying with me for years, and now I feel like I should say it. I mean, what better time than when I can make sure you won't remember it the next day? Or the next? Or the next..."

Dean frowned, visibly getting impatient and, now, anxious. "Come on Sam, just say it."

He chuckled. "Easier said than done. Well, no, but... Anyway." He let out a long exhale and looked at Dean. "There is something you need to know about me. I think...there is a reason why my relationships keep ending badly. It's because I don't _want_ them to end well. Deep down, I don't want them to work out because I'm... Because I love someone else."

"Okay...? Then why don't you just go out with that girl?" Dean asked, not seeming to get it. Or maybe not wanting to get it.

"It's not that easy. Especially because it's not a girl," Sam confessed, pursing his lips in nervousness as he blinked at his brother, who was raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh," he said with a nod. "Well I guess... That at least explains the hair," Dean joked, obviously trying to lift the mood. "And your girly behavior in general."

"Dean."

"What, it does." He smirked, before shrugging and leaning back on his hands behind his back. "So? Who's the guy?"

Sam gulped. He came all this way, he told almost everything to Dean. It was okay. He could do this. It won't matter how his brother reacts, he still won't remember anything when, or if, they get back to the real world. Although his reaction would be genuine...and Sam wasn't sure if he was ready to see Dean disgusted, calling him a sick freak, looking at him with resentment in his eyes...

"Sam? Hey, you okay?" Dean's voice snapped him out of his daze, and he forced himself to nod, even though he still didn't feel ready. "Look, if you don't want to tell me, that's okay. You can keep your crush a secret, I won't pry."

"It's not just a crush," he admitted, closing his eyes as he braced himself. "I'm in love with him. Have been since I was fifteen." And this time when he looked at Dean, he saw a hint of realization in his eyes.

"Fifteen? Who did you even meet back then...?" Dean asked, but his tone was reluctant, his mind clearly somewhere else, so Sam decided it was time to end this. He had to say it. Let it out in the open and see what happens.

"No one," he said with a slight smile, and his gaze softened as he added, "because he's been there with me the whole time..." Dean's eyes widened, but Sam wasn't going to stop there, even though it was clear, now, who he was talking about. He couldn't stop there. "Because it's you, Dean. I love _you._ "

The silence in the air was almost as bad as listening to his brother dying, because it certainly felt like his heart was breaking all over again. Dean was blinking, visibly shocked and trying to comprehend what he just heard while staring at the ground with eyes reflecting disbelief. He didn't say anything for at least five minutes, Sam not feeling particularly eager to start a conversation either, so he just waited until the other felt comfortable speaking again. Which happened five more minutes later.

"I... Sam, that's..." Dean made a baffled, incredulous sound. "Are you sure? I mean really sure?"

"I have fantasized about kissing and having sex with you, Dean. I get jealous when you're with other girls, because I want to be the one holding hands with you, kissing you, hugging you, cuddling in bed. Having sex. Doing couple things..." he stated, face burning like a furnace in embarrassment.

"Oh." Dean's cheeks were visibly gaining a more reddish color as well as he nodded, clearly speechless at Sam's bold confession, which Sam expected, so he decided to continue.

"I don't want you do force yourself to love me. I don't even want an answer." He frowned. "I mean, I think I already know you'd say no, so you don't have to actually say it... But I guess I would like to know what you think." He blinked at Dean, anxious and...scared. "I would like to know that."

"Well," Dean said, clearing his throat, but then didn't continue. Instead, he fell into a deep silence again, Sam waiting several minutes before his brother stood up and said, "It's. It took me by surprise. But you should know...that I don't think I'd say no.."

Sam gaped at him, standing up as well, and even though he was taller than Dean, he felt extremely small and weak at that moment. "What do you mean?" he asked, almost forgetting to breathe as he stared at the other. "What are you saying?"

Dean rolled his eyes, fidgeting for a second, then tentatively brought his hands up to the other's arms. "All I'm saying...is that I'm not freaked out by this. At all. And maybe—"

_"Heat of the moment, telling you what your heart is..."_

He remembered the sound of broken glass. Probably a bullet through the window... Sam truly hated this time loop he was stuck in. But at least now he had another way of spending the next few hundred years.

By getting an answer out of Dean.


End file.
